The Memoir of Kindergoth
by Lil' Indigo
Summary: The Memoir of Kindergoth will show how a little bat can turn into a full out ogre in the range of Kindergarten into High School. Will he pass or fail? Will he find love on his journey? Or just a little school fling? Probably just a fling, but there is hope, right? Peak into Kindergoth's thoughts and inner personal workings. Read and review. Rated T for profanity and such.
1. Every lil' goth has a story

The snow is hitting my face lightly, as I walk to 711. I just need one more cigarette and I'm done. My black scarf waving behind me, creating ripples as I walked, like an ocean. It seemed as if it were telling me to go back; to not do it. I wished my addiction was behind me just like my scarf.

My attire screams Goth. I mean with my leather boots, black skinny jeans, black trench coat (a gift from Chaos), and even my Nevermore t-shirt, there's no inch of any other color beside black. I'm not that hard to miss in a white, snow blanketed town. One look at my face and you'd think I'm some sort of emo mother fucker. Which I assure all of you reading this; I'm sure as hell not. I mean my black eyeliner, eye shadow, and black lipstick (all applied correctly, evenly, and symmetrically), kind of make me stick out…what's worse is that I'm a kindergartener and a guy. That just makes it all just a lot worse. Even my precision of language is beyond my peers.

The other goths call me their little baby bat, which makes me feel like I don't belong with the Ogres. I feel so incapable and dumb around them. They know so much more than I ever will. It just isn't fair…Nothing is, I might as well just go elsewhere.

By now I have gotten to 711 and have bought my cigarettes. That is the beauty of South Park, no one cares how old you are, and you can do whatever you want. Like those Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears wannabe's. They don't even have to get permission, they can just go and dress like a whore, get boob jobs, go on adventures and discover the unknown. Personally I enjoy my dark clothing, and staying at home (away from all the chaos), and even learning in the classroom.

My gothly peers don't understand my love of school; they believe it to be a prison for the young. But I do also enjoy just sitting out back of the school talking to my much older and wiser friends about how sucky life is, and about our favorite bands (mines the Bauhaus). It almost never gets boring…we even had out own adventure not too long ago. With vampire Butters, we burned down the wannabe Goth store, Hot Topic. I don't hate the place, per se (screw Vampqueer and his douhcey little vampireness), but if it's going to start the vampire generation, it has to be gone. I meant they got some good band shirts, admit it. Ever since Twilight came out vampires aren't as cool or enjoyable as they used to be. They're a joke now, just like ole Frankenstein. Maybe I'll dress up as a fairy this year; all decked out in glitter and glue. Maybe even dye my hair white, have gold make up on.

And maybe even announce to the world how gay I am for Ike Broflovski.

I mean might as well, Halloween's right around the corner, and nobody else will be doing the same, that I know of, anyway. You know the saying.

**CONFORM TO NON-CONFORMITY.**


	2. Don't bring up Halloween, lil' goth

"So, what should our attire be for Halloween this year?" It was already the month of October. We need to start planning **now**.

"Oh, lil' bat. It's too conformist to dress up." Henrietta, who resembled much like a mum to me, said.

Too conformist? This would be the first year that I could do it with friends, because I actually have some now. Sure they may not be the IDEAL friends. But they're my friends.

"Only the Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake wannabe's get decked out for Halloween." Red stated, shortly after taking his last smoke from his current cigarette. Frowning he got up and walked to Henrietta's desk to get another. "Hen, these are the mint kind. These are the kind the conformists get."

"But they're good. Try them."

Chaos started to speak. "Well, guys, this will be our lil' bat's first Halloween, his first Halloween with friends, anyway. Remember ours?" From what I heard from Red and Henrietta, they do remember, and it was a pretty good Halloween. "We'll make our Halloween not JUST about the candy and the costumes. We'll make sure lil' bat knows what Halloween is really for, and join us on our ritual to free the demons."

Free. The. Demons.

What. The. Hell.

Whatever. Let's roll with it.

"So, Henrietta, Red, and Chaos-"

"My name is not Henrietta. My name is Crimson."

"And my name isn't Red. My name is Talon. Remember that kid." Red's real name is Talon. It's gothic enough so he didn't need a Goth name. But Talon doesn't fit him as well as Red. Speaking of names, Chaos's real name is Markel, but that's too conformist.

"I'll call you Talon when Red doesn't fit you anymore." Seriously, don't dye you're hair red if you don't want people calling you Red. "So, Crimson, Talon, and Chaos, would you please accompany me on my first official Halloween?"

"Of course we will. We have to train in the ways of the Ogres."

"Yes. So, NOW, can we go over which band is better?"

"NO, CRIMSON. Bauhaus is much better than Necronomicon."

"Fighting about such trivial things is so conformist, Talon, Crimson."

While they go on fighting about which band is better, and whether to fight and not to fight, I drag mum's curtain out of the way of the window. I continue to stare out the window, and think about the love of my life so far. Ike Broflovski.

But then I remembered, looking out the window is such a conformist thing to do. So I stop.

Because you know the saying;

**CONFORM TO NONCONFORMITY.**


	3. Don't let your mind spiral, lil' bat

A/N: Sorry, but every chapter is being written in a style. I'm trying to explore my writing style, which way I like best and all that. Also excuse my poor grammar, I'm in 9th grade and am not really the best at English. Okay. CONTINUE.

Eventually after our ritual meeting, I came home. And I started to think, letting my thoughts spiral.

Maybe we just can't help but do conformist things. Everyone breathes, but you don't see us not breathing.

I think the topic of breathing is something I shall not bring up to the Ogres.

We all eat. We all drink.

Maybe we just can't help it.

Most of us find the same things to be fun-ish.

Fun is for the conformists.

*Enjoyable.

That's better.

I guess.

I'm sure that there are other people beside the Ogres, who listen to Nine Inch Nails, Bauhaus, or Nevermore, etc (I think my hopes would be too high if I thought that Ike would be one of them). Like Raven, or Stan Marsh. He still listens to them, even though he isn't a part of our group anymore. Which actually upsets me, I enjoyed his company. He gave off an air of…Enjoyment or something similar to that. He was just pleasant to be around. People can actually be like that.

I wonder if people think of us like that. Well, probably not. I think we may be the opposite of that too other people. We're the kind of people that others tend to avoid. When we enter a room, they scatter, as if they are afraid to touch us, perhaps afraid to even breathe the same air as us; afraid to be in the same space as us. We're aliens to them, treading on their territory; a bother.

Is this why we usually skip class? Maybe we're the ones who think that way. Who huddle closer and closer together when others get near without realizing it? People could actually be trying to be in our little circle, but they can't. You know why? Why because we push them away.

I'm thinking too much again.

I really need to sleep.

Not only is there school tomorrow, but I'm just tired of my mind being conscious and twisting things against me. Warping things so that I can never win; warping things to a point so that they can never go back, even if I want, NEED, them too.

Because that what everyone let's their minds do too them. Warp things against them.

You know the saying.

**CONFORM TO NONCONFORMITY. **


	4. Do bats bathe?

Upon waking up, it dawned on me that I should spend less time worrying about others and their conformist ways.

I go through my normal morning routine; bathing, brushing of teeth and hair, and picking out clothes to wear. Today is the day of the sabbath; Sunday. According to the bible it is the day of rest. I will not be going to church or do anything religious; I don't believe in any of that crap. I'll be doing the same old usual with a twist- the lonely edition. Today I don't think I feel up to hanging out with my mentors.

I reiterate, bath time is first thing on Sundays. A time to relax and wash the germs and dead skin that collect onto me off. But even though I said that I should worry less about others, even though bath time was meant to relax me, I found that I was thinking about my peers anyway during the bathing part of my routine.

They still call me kindergoth even though we are not in kindergarten anymore. I suppose they aren't original enough to think of another name. They might have even forgot my real name. It's too conformist to go by my birth name, Firkle, but kindergoth just doesn't fit anymore. Maybe it's too conformist to have a nickname that's not an actual name. I'm starting to see that even I can't think of a proper, long lasting nickname. (A/N: reviews can be used for suggestions, because me, the author, can't think of one)

Sigh.

Afterwards, I blow out the candles and attempt to towel dry my short, but cut choppy, black hair.

I then start to prepare myself some lunch. It is about 12 o'clock; my stomach started moaning for food. I'm craving more of a snack rather than a meal, maybe some chocolate. I look in the pantry to see Pocky. I didn't even know that we had Pocky. When did we get?

Humph, well I guess that doesn't matter. I grab it out of the pantry, I migrate to the living room to watch some TV or some Netflix. After flipping through the channels on my TV, I find nothing worth watching. So I switch over to Netflix, and a thought came to me. Watching cartoons was such a conformist thing for a first grader to do. What is there to watch that no one else will? A documentary?

You know the saying; **Conform to non-conformity. **


End file.
